


Before the Winter Is Over

by Loki_said_kneel



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Fluff, Human AU, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery, Scotland, Smut, Writer!Loki, and tells fake stories of how he lost his eyes, asgard is a pub in scotland, crack mixed with feels, i like fluff, loads of fluff, mostly towards the end, odin cooks there, odin owns the pub, playlist available on spotify, they did not grow up together either
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-08-13 01:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_said_kneel/pseuds/Loki_said_kneel
Summary: Loki arrives to Scottland at the beginning of February, he has three months to write another book. When he first enters Asgard - a small pub runed by a friendly family - he does not expect to become a part of it, or fall in love.Haunted by his past he is torn between the new feelings he has for the lovely bartender Thor and his carrier. Not Not to mention, his time there is limited.***New chapters every week.Playlist on Spotify for every chapter





	1. The Round House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tesseract_daddy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tesseract_daddy/gifts).

> It's been a while, but there we go. I've been working on this baby for a bit. If you want to enjoy the firt chapter to the fullest, play it together with it's playlist here:  
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BrQl5a2r0CPAj1lKCtQoX  
There will be one for each chapter.  
Enjoy! ♥

** <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BrQl5a2r0CPAj1lKCtQoX> **

**P** **art 1: The Round House**

Loki was starting to get afraid he would get snowed in. The young writer was standing by the window of a little cottage he rented for himself, frowning. It wasn’t a snowstorm, not yet at least, but the weather was relentless and the Scottish nature surrounding him was now covered by a thick layer of dusty snow. It looked beautiful. And terrifying.

It was the beginning of February and he only arrived yesterday to witness the last rays of sun for a long time. He rented a small rounded house (cleverly promoted as a Round House on the website he found it on) to write his new novel. Three months. That was the time he had given himself.

The space was even smaller that it looked on the pictures and yet he found it whimsical. It was a perfect setting for his work. The second floor was solely a bedroom with double bed taking most of its space. The first floor was a combination of living room, dining room and a kitchen (if you squinted). The roundness of the house was disturbed by a little appendix providing the smallest bathroom Loki had ever seen (and he lived in London).

He already found his favourite place in an alcove of a wall where one of its tall almost gothic shaped windows was situated. He could somehow fold his long legs in the small space and have his laptop sitting on the top of his thighs in order to write there with the faint touches of cold that sometimes crept through the closed window.

Loki always dreamt of being a successful writer. Not just a writer, but a successful one. There was a clear distinction which bothered him in his younger years. Loki wanted more from life than most people did. He needed to be prospering enough to travel to write. He was lucky. His first trilogy of young adult fantasy books was a fair victory considering he was a debut author, but it was his next series that brought him fame and a tour with the second book of the series and every one that followed.

He still lived in his little studio apartment in London, not exactly in the best area, though not too far from centre. He had decided to spend his money otherwise and so there he was. The cottage (he really wasn’t sure if he could call it a house) was ridiculously overprized, but he could appreciate the strange piece of architecture and he didn’t need a lot of space for what he was attempting.

The owner was kind enough to give him tips on where to shop and he discovered a little town between the hills. He only visited it to pick up gorceries, but he was tempted to visit its little pub called_ Asgard_. It was its name that caught his attention. It was as odd as the rest of this place, it made him feel as if he fell through space and time.

Loki was a solitary man. He always focused on his carrier, making sure his dreams wouldn’t stay just dreams even when others thought him naïve or straight up crazy. He didn’t worry about these people. He cut them out of his life. This meant that he had a very tight circle of friends, but he did not crave more.

A lot of people called Loki their friend these days. He stayed careful with using the word.

He didn’t have time for romantic encounters. His focus on writing was crucial and it damned every pursue of a relationship. Eventually, Loki stopped trying.

He was happy.

* * *

“I should go to town till it’s possible,” he decided. The habit of talking to himself was something he grasped a long time ago and he accepted it the flaw around the same time. Things like this didn’t bother him.

He put on another layer of clothing - warm white sweater with protruding design woven from the wool. He wore his favourite trousers, light grey checked slacks with a little bit of dark green inside the pattern. A heavy beige coat was hanging by the door and he slipped it on along with black boots and emerald cashmere scarf. His black hair was in a messy bun. It took him shameful loads of time to make it appear messy in the right way.

He regretted not bringing a car. He thought that walks to the town would be a nice way of clearing his head. But the fifteen minutes it would usually take to get there turned into thirty in this weather and he was freezing by the time he got to the store. He should have put on a hat, but no, he had to be cool with his damn manbun. Now his hair was ruined, wet and his ears threatened to fall off soon.

He bought two bags and a full backpack of groceries he knew would last easily or could be frozen (he could probably freeze it by leaving it outside which would save a lot of space in the tiny little freezer his fridge had).

After only a few yards of the plastic bags digging into his fingers, he decided that it was a perfect time to visit Asgard.

The pub was half empty. It was still more people than he expected in a town this small and an upcoming storm, but the place still had a few more aces up its sleeve. Like a tall blonde man smiled at him from behind a bar.

“Hello, traveller, welcome to Asgard,” he greeted Loki. His voice was deep, sounding like a thunder when he spoke.

“Hello,” Loki replied, his lips a little numb from the cold. He walked to the bar and set down his bags. He put his backpack on a barstool next to him and he pulled out hair tie from his hair, letting it loose so it would dry quicker.

“What can I get you?” the large man stopped washing glasses and came towards him. “A pint of beer?”

“Beer? Oh God no. No. Something warm. Tea. Hot chocolate, something like that.” Loki looked up on the board hanging high behind the bartender. Someone drew little doodles around the hand-written list of things the place served. There were some drinks and a daily menu. 

“We do serve hot chocolate. And tea or coffee. What do you prefer? I can also offer you some leak and potato soup.”

“We are out of soup!” Male voice rumbled from the kitchen.

“No soup then.” The blonde shrugged, grinning.

“Some other time then.” Loki smiled. “I think I am going to go for the hot chocolate. Do you make white cocoa?” he asked, not really knowing why. It was a pub in the middle of Scotland. Of course, they wouldn’t serve it.

“No, we don’t I am afraid. But I am going to put some cinnamon and vanilla into your drink.” The man was either amazing at his job or there was nothing that could ruin his positive attitude. He seemed like a perfect opposite of Loki.

He came back with a cup of steaming hot chocolate soon. It smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, jut like he promised. It was thick, like a proper hot chocolate.

“So, why would you travel in this weather? If you’re looking for lodging, we offer a little apartment upstairs. It is usually rented by tourists, but not in February, no one really comes here in February.”

“I already have a place to stay but thank you.” Loki dug a spoon into the mixture and brought it to his lips. Delicious. “I rented a cottage about fifteen minutes of walk from the edge of the town.” And centre of the town because they were basically the same thing.

“The Round House?” the bartender asked excited.

“Yes.” Loki smiled.

“So, you’re planning to stay here for a while?”

“Three months.”

“Oh, you’re going to leave when the best season comes.” The man was clearly not from around here, but a little bit of Scottish accent crept its way to his speech when he said the last words. Loki liked it. “I am Thor by the way.” He introduced himself.

“Loki. Is this your pub?”

“My parents. It’s a family business. My dad is in the kitchen, mum takes care of the important stuff. My brother Baldur helps around too. I am just not sure where he is now.” He looked around.

The writer smiled at him.

They talked while Loki half drank half ate his hot chocolate. Thor wanted to know about his reasons to be here, but Loki didn’t give him a clear answer, he didn’t feel like admitting to his job. The man was nice, but he didn’t like to talk about his writing unless it was on panels or in interviews.

He despised talking about his new projects and he kept everything secret for a long time before even his agent Brunnhilde got to see something.

Brunnhilde, who refused to be called anything but Valkyrie and once threatened to drop him if he ever called her Hilda again, was with him since the beginning and though he wasn’t necessarily proud of how they met, he was grateful for her.

“Wait, you’re not planning to walk there in this weather, right?” Thor asked when he paid for his drink. The snowing got even worse, though Loki doubted it was possible.

“Well, I am hardly going to catch a cab around here and there is no bus stop around.” Loki threw the backpack on his back, fixing his coat before he grabbed his bags.

“Let me drive you. I am from Norway, I am used to driving in weather like this,” Thor offered. “Baldur!” he screamed his brother’s name, brining attention of the few customers to them.

One of the young girls in the corner of the pub widened her eyes and Loki smiled bashfully. He knew she recognized him. A man nearly as large as Thor ran out of the kitchen with apron wrapped around his waist, before Loki managed to protest.

“What?” Baldur enquired.

“It really is not necessary.” Loki stepped in.

The brothers ignored him. “I am going to drive Loki to his house. I’ll be back soon. Can you cover the bar?” Thor explained.

“Who is Loki?”

The writer wished he could evaporate.

“This is Loki. He is living in the Round House.”

Great now everyone knows where he was staying. He just hoped the girl who was staring at him didn’t hear it, but by her look…she did. Perfect.

“Oh. Hi,” Baldur greeted him as if he only just noticed the dark-haired man standing next to his brother.

“Hello,” Loki replied, not really looking at the man.

“Sure. Go. I can cover the bar,” the smaller brother assured him and Thor went to grab his keys and jacket.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Loki prompted again, but Thor just repeated that it really was no bother and that he wouldn’t be calm knowing he let him walk home alone.

Once Loki got through the embarrassment, he was happy he accepted the offer. The car was a nice off-road with heating and some 80s music he did not recognize blasting from the speakers.

He helped Loki with the begs as well and Loki came to the car when he got back in shyly. He put his hands on the open window and smiled. His hair was wet again and it was sticking to the side of his face. He pushed it behind his ears.

“Thank you. Really. It might be the kindest thing someone has ever done for me.”

Thor grinned at him. “No problem, Loki. Anytime. I am glad you’re staying for a couple of months. I hope to see you in the pub again.”

Loki nodded his head and stepped aside. “I will stop by soon,” he said. Thor rolled up the window and Loki watched his car disappear before he went back inside.

* * *

Back in Asgard, Baldur made a joke about Thor’s infinite grin, but the taller brother pretended not to hear him. He stared into a corner of the room where a group of teenagers was handing each other some book. As they turned it, Thor could see a photo on the back of it. His eyes widened and his face was drained of colour. He quickly made his way to the group.

“Can I borrow this for a second?” he asked, already taking the book from their surprised hands. He lifted it up for Baldur to see, unable to say anything. His brother only started to laugh.

Loki’s face was there in black and white.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finds himself thinking about the little pub more than he would like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter.  
There is a link for a playlist of the chapter if you'd like to enjoy the full experience. 
> 
> Tell me what you think about the story so far.  
Thank you for your sweet comments, kudos and of course your reads.

**The playlist for the chapter:**

**<https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2g6wmdC26ajg2LSwgP7jcX> **

**Part Two: The White Cocoa**

It stopped snowing. Loki woke up to bright whiteness surrounding his temporary home and soft rays of sun reflecting in the shimmering snow blanket. It was mesmerizing. And freezing. He started to sleep under two thick duvets instead of one, because he would often wake up, shaking and as tired as when he went to bed. Getting out of the warm embrace was challenging though.

He walked downstairs, pulling a thick sweater over his pyjamas and he rolled out his yoga mat in the middle of the first floor as it was the only space large enough to perform his morning ritual. First two hours of his day tended to be lazy. Or better – it did not include much work. He would shower and cook porridge for breakfast. He would drink a cup of tea and then another one if he felt like it. On special days he’d even have coffee and a biscuit.

Then he wrote. He wrote and wrote until his back hurt and his stomach grumbled from hunger and the flow of words in his head could no longer continue unless he fed it. He stretched and saved his progress before standing up and making those four steps it took him to get to the kitchen. He wrote nearly three thousand words in he morning, meaning he was a little ahead of his schedule and he could of course take the afternoon off to visit the town…or Asgard.

Loki’s lunch consisted of baked beans on toast and another warm cup of tea. He didn’t really need to go back to town. In fact, he could easily stay here for at least a week and he wouldn’t miss anything.

But his curiosity won at the end. He wanted to go. He changed his clothes into something warmer and more presentable and he head out to the town, enjoying the view.

It was around two o’clock when he got there and the pub was busy. Thor was just bringing someone bowls of wonderful smelling soup when he opened the door and the large man smiled at him.

“Hi, Loki. Take a seat I’ll be with you in a second.” Loki nodded and found a place at the bar, because it seemed that all the tables were taken. He fiddled with the hem of his coat, waiting for Thor to come over. His brother Baldur seemed to be helping in the kitchen as well as waitering and overall the chaos seemed perfectly organized.

Loki looked up to see the menu on the board over the bar and was surprised to find an addition.

_New: White cocoa with homemade whipped cream_

The writer smiled and he felt strangely flattered, knowing he was the reason for the change. He would occasionally get a glimpse of Thor talking to someone as he brought their food and drinks and he was amazed by the cosiness and familiarity of the place. Everyone seemed to know everyone.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. What can I get you? Have you had lunch already?” The blonde came over.

“I did,” Loki admitted. “I see you started serving white cocoa,” Loki noted and Thor blushed slightly.

“Yes. It was…um…in demand.”

The Londoner smiled. “Oh. I see. Well, I think I would like to try.” 

“Coming right up.” Thor sounded chipper as he reached for a mug and started boiling some milk. Loki looked around again.

“Are you always this busy?”

“It does tend to get busy around lunch time. People stop by on their lunch breaks for a quick meal and a chat.”

Loki nodded his head, acknowledging his answer and when he didn’t say anything else, Thor decided to speak up.

“You didn’t tell me you’re a writer.”

One corner of Loki’s lips quirked up. “You didn’t ask.” He shrugged and Thor tilted his head to the side.

“Fair enough.” He topped Loki’s mug with generous amount of whipped cream, cinnamon and white chocolate chips before presenting it to the dark-haired man. Thor opened his mouth to say something, but someone called him over. Loki smiled at him knowingly, thanking him and he dug a spoon into the cream.

Thor caught a sight of him when he licked the cream of his spoon. Thor rolled his eyes groaning, before he fixed his apron and went back to his duties.

Loki sat there in silence. He was always one of those writers who preferred writing in silence. He would often play music, but only a specifically picked playlists, carefully crafted for each of his new projects. He could never write in a café or in a restaurant as some of his colleagues chose to do.

When he was starting out, he couldn’t afford working on his novels in Starbucks or even in less costly cafés or tearooms and he never minded. He could make his own tea and he didn’t want to worry about taking space. He always considered his job to be solitary and he even found liking in that aspect of it.

This was the first time in his life though when he wished he had brought his laptop. 

The place was loud, almost too loud, but the incoherent hum of the place was oddly comforting and he could imagine working here, drinking the thick sugary drink. And maybe, just maybe, staring at the tall blonde running around, talking to everyone. He admired his friendly nature. Loki was never good at making friends. Perhaps that’s why he became a writer.

“So,” he could hear Thor’s voice behind him as the man rushed around the bar to talk to him and brew someone’s tea while doing so. “Is that why you’re here? To write?” he enquired.

“Yes. Precisely.” Loki smiled.

“Do you have the story already or are you looking for inspiration?”

“I have the important part thought out. Did my research, build the characters, you know. I just need to put it on paper so I can colour in all the missing parts. Kind of dress it nicely so it’s presentable.”

This time, it was Thor who smiled. He shook his head slightly.

“What?” Loki asked confused.

“It’s just that...you just described it in such and amazing way. You could have just said you’re working on your first draft so you can work on the edits and make it a proper novel, but...you didn’t.” Thor shrugged. “I always thought about writers as some kind of magicians.”

“Why is that?” wondered the writer.

“Because words have so much power, you know? And if someone uses it well...well...they’re kind of superheros.”

Loki laughed at this. “Oh no. No. There is nothing heroic about being a writer, let me tell you. We just write the things we are afraid to do in real life.”

“So, what is it your main character does in this book?”

Loki smirked over the not so subtle way of asking about his fears. “I never talk about my first drafts. It’s too changeable. Nothing is ever sure or guarantied. Plus...sometimes you pick a path for your character and they just ignore it and pick another one.”

“So, you don’t write his decisions?” Thor needed to bring the tea to a customer, but he was honestly curious about Loki’s writing.

“Only the first few I guess...I put him in a race but then he’s on his own. I am mare observer. I may want the race to end in some way, but maybe the hero will stumble and fall too many times and it all ends different. I am fine with that of course. If I stepped in, gave him too many directions it might feel too pressured. Wrong. It needs to feel real. It needs to feel organic.” Thor didn’t realise he was staring at him until the write chuckled. “I am odd, I know.”

“No.” The waiter shook his head quickly. Almost too quickly. “No, I just had no idea that writing works like this.”

“Every writer works differently.” Loki shrugged. Thor rushed to a customer with his tea and then back to Loki.

“You could write here if you want to. You must get lonely in that tiny house,” Thor offered the man as if he could hear his thoughts about the place.

“I usually work the best in a quiet place. Alone.” Loki regretted his words the second he said them, because yes, they were true, but he wanted to sit here, the large man making sure he had as much warm drinks as he desires. “But perhaps I could try it differently this time,” he added, earning a smile from Thor.

“You’re always welcomed. Excuse me.” He ran away again and Loki took a sip of his drink to hide his own smile.

Loki stayed there until the biggest rush subsided and he could talk to Thor a little more. He caught a glimpse of his father when he stumbled out of kitchen, eyepatch covering one of his eyes and a dirty apron wrapped around his large waist. The man seemed like a teddy bear trying to look tough and Loki thought it was the opposite of his son who looked tough but was really a teddy bear.

* * *

The writer came back two days later, around three in the afternoon. There were still some people in the pub, but it wasn’t as full as the last time. Thor greeted him from the bard the second he stepped inside and Loki couldn’t supress a grin. He carried his backpack today, even though he didn’t really need to go shopping or anything. He did plan to buy some pastry before he walked back to the house, but now it only had few things inside. Few incredibly precious things. At least to Loki.

He headed to the bar, but Thor approached him, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder and he gestured to a table closest to the bar. Someone put a small crocheted table cloth to the middle and a small vase with a single white rose in it. Loki was quite sure it wasn’t there before and he was even more sure that no other table in Asgard had the same decorations. A little metal bar that had “Reservé” engraved in it.

“I haven’t called in for a reservation,” Loki stated, confused.

“I know. I took the liberty of making it for you. In case you decided to write here sometimes.” Loki could hear sniggering from the kitchen, but he wanted to believe in has nothing to do with the current situation.

“Do you do this for all your local writers?” Loki asked.

“I am afraid we don’t have any. It doesn’t happen very often that someone like you would appear in here.” The way Thor said it made the other man blush as he took of his backpack. He bit his lower lip.

“Ok,” he agreed simply and slid on a padded bench pressed to a wall. He shrugged off his coat and he looked up at Thor.

“White cocoa?” the large man offered and Loki affirmed it. Thor was watching him as he took out a tablet, wireless keyboard and a small binder, setting it all up and came back with the drink when he seemed to be all ready to start writing.

“Tell me if you need me,” Thor beamed.

Loki nodded, thanking him.

He placed his fingers on the keyboard.


	3. The Writer in the Corner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki enjoys writing in Asgard. 
> 
> Thor enjoys it as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and possitive respond in general. ♥ Enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Massive thanks to @tesseract_daddy for being my beta for this story. He made it this great, not me. Send him love ♥

**Soundtrack for this chapter: **

<https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0xi4kta5aib1Ss69w53j1k>

**Part 3: The Writer in the Corner**

Thor entered the pub early in the morning with a single yellow rose in hand. His mother raised her head from some documents and smirked.

“I see you are redecorating.”

Thor blushed at her remark and walked to the table now permanently marked as reserved for his new favourite customer. Loki didn’t come in every day, but two weeks had gone by and he’d come in every other day.

“I am just trying to make it pleasant for our customers.”

He heard Odin scoffing from the kitchen before his father came out with a large knife.

“It’s not weird at all that you put flowers on a single table in the room,” he commented.

“And where did you even get this?” Frigga lifted a small crocheted mat.

“Grandma made it for me and I think it’s beautiful. I am allowed to put beautiful things in here, am I not?” Thor took the mat from Frigga, offended, and put it back on the table.

Baldur rolled his eyes from where he was wiping the tables. “I also didn’t know we had that metal thing. No one ever makes reservations in here,” he added to the conversation, making his brother groan.

“Have you all just agreed to annoy me? It’s marketing, ok? It’s good for Asgard,” Thor said, defending himself as he went to pour fresh water into the vase.

Odin went back to the kitchen, but he mumbled something about letting him know what the writer’s favourite dish was so he could add it to the menu. It took Thor a second to realize he was mocking him and he wasn’t really supposed to ask Loki that.

Thor checked the door anxiously throughout the day. He’d bought every single one of Loki’s books he could find in the small bookstore in town and he ordered the rest. He read the first one a week ago and found it tantalizing. He read it before he went to bed, which meant he slept in. Twice. It earned him many snarky remarks from his brother.

He brought the second book to work so he could finish Loki’s first trilogy as soon as possible. He was three hundred pages in, therefore he was only missing about fifty pages, and he was determined to get it done.

Loki had the talent to make people glued to his work. Thor would never call himself a passionate reader, but reading these books was a whole new experience. He found himself promising to read  _ just one more chapter _ and then reading five instead until he passed out long after midnight.

* * *

Loki came in before four that day and Thor stuck the paperback into his back pocket. He only had twenty pages to go. The writer automatically sat down at his now usual table and Thor rushed over with a grin plastered on his handsome face.

“Hello, how are you, what can I get you?” he was speaking a little too fast, because he’d been drinking coffee the whole day. Loki chuckled.

“Hello. I am fine. How are you? You seem full of energy today. I think I would like some tea today. Earl Grey perhaps.” Loki pulled out his old Yoga tablet and set it on the table. He looked at the rose.

“ Different colour today,” he noted. 

“I am great. Yeah. I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately… also drinking a lot of coffee,” Thor blurted out without thinking.

“Oh really? What are you reading?”

Thor’s eyes widened at the question. That’s why he usually stayed away from coffee. He couldn’t tell him that he was reading his book, that would sound obnoxious. Christ, what had he gotten himself into?

Loki was waiting patiently, small smile playing on his thin lips as it often did. It also made Thor stutter more than once and today was no exception.

“Shakespeare,” he managed to say after a while.

“I love Shakespeare!” exclaimed Loki. Of course, he did. Thor wanted to punch himself. He hoped that his brother wasn’t listening; he was busy in the kitchen the last time he checked. “What play are you reading?” Thor was positive he could only name five plays by the famous writer from whom he’d read none. He did see a movie once during his studies when he was too lazy to read the play.

“ _ Romeo and Juliet _ ,” he answered then, at least he actually knew something about it, but he also thought that he should have gone with  _ Hamlet  _ or  _ Othello _ , because this didn’t sound manly at all. Christ.

“That’s a great play. I’ve been rereading  _ Coriolanus  _ lately,” Loki stated. “I love that play.”

“Yeah. Yes, that is a great one, too.  _ Coriolanus _ .” Thor had never heard the name  _ Coriolanus until _ this moment.

“It really is, isn’t it? I think it's sort of a meditation on the idea of heroism. I also enjoy how it dabbles with the importance of names and identity. It’s so interesting to consider how much a name can change you. Did he wanted to be called Coriolanus? What would happen if they didn’t decide that he should be called this name? He had a name before, he was a hero before, but was he really? Everything changes for him the second he becomes Coriolanus. Wouldn’t you agree?”

It shouldn’t have surprised Thor that the lithe man in front of him had his own theories and interpretation of Shakespeare’s plays. He cursed himself, because now he had to read  _ Coriolanus  _ too.

“Yeah, absolutely. I agree with you. That it is a meditation of heroism and…the other stuff.” Thor was nodding frantically. “Would you like scones with your tea?”

Loki leaned back against the wall. “I would. Thank you.”

Thor felt terrible for watching him, but there was something so calming about seeing Loki work. He would only pause to drink his tea or peak into his binder here and there, but otherwise, he seemed to be completely lost in his own world.

He could, of course, understand that Loki didn’t want to talk about his first draft, but he was now even more curious than the first time he asked. Was it another fantasy? Was it contemporary? Or maybe a sci-fi or a historical fiction? Was it a romantic story or was it full of adventure? Or was it both? It also could have been a retelling. Of  _ Coriolanus _ . He really needed to read it.

Thor couldn’t stop staring at Loki’s fingers as he broke one of the scones apart. He had unusually long fingers. His hands were gorgeous, large and lean. Loki was a work of art. He reminded Thor of old Greek statues that were depicted in his old history schoolbook. His legs were miles long and his shirts exaggerated his sculpted torso. He wondered if he wore his shirts this tight on purpose or if he didn’t realize how he looked in them. His jeans also appeared a little too tight for him, especially in certain areas and it drove the waiter nuts.

* * *

Loki seemed to be doing even better this time than his other visits to Asgard and he didn’t even notice that he was the last person sitting there. Odin and Frigga left upstairs an hour ago; Baldur told Thor to close since he came in late so many times. It was just the two of them, soft music on the radio, and Loki’s clicking of keyboard. Thor didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop and so he finished his book behind the bar (he made sure Loki wouldn’t see what he was reading if he lifted his head), he refilled Loki’s tea and he warmed himself up some left-over samosas from the kitchen with a bowl of sweet potato soup with ginger.

Finally, Loki stopped typing. He stretched out and looked around the room. The chairs were put up on tables and the sign on the door was turned around, closed. “Fuck,” Loki muttered, shrinking in his chair.

“Don’t worry,” Thor told him, grabbing another samosa.

“You’re closed. I am so sorry.” Loki started packing up quickly and he pulled out his wallet.

“It’s fine, really. Keep writing if you wish. I don’t have any plans. Are you hungry? I can heat up some soup for you too,” Thor offered.

“Oh, I couldn’t. I don’t want to bother you.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “I told you I don’t mind.” Thor got off his bar stool and headed to the kitchen. “Do you like sweet potato and ginger?”

“Yeah, sure.” Loki sat back down, warily.

Thor came back with a bowl of soup and some bread. He brought his own bowl to Loki’s table and sat across from him.

“Thank you.”

“You seemed to be having a good session today,” Thor commented on his writing efforts.

“I wrote three chapters just this afternoon.” He brought the spoon to his mouth. “If I keep going at this rate, I will have the first draft ready before the end of February. I might even start working on a second part. I like to keep at least a month between finishing a first draft and starting the edits,” he explained.

“You really love this, don’t you?” Thor said out of sudden. , making Loki blushed under his gaze.

“I really do. I never wanted to be anything else but a writer and made sure that every decision in my life leads to this. So yes. I do. Do you like what you do?”

“It’s probably strange for someone as famous as you, but I do. This is a good place, good town. I can see myself doing this for the rest of my life, but also… not. I would like to try something else. I grew up to this; it’s all I know. I was quite young when we moved from Norway.” Loki frowned.

“I thought you were old enough to drive when you moved.” 

“No, not really,” Thor admitted.

Loki laughed. “Good to know. Is there anything else you would like to tell me?” 

“I am not reading Shakespeare. I haven’t heard about  _ Coriolanus  _ until you said it today.”

Loki laughed even harder. “You are amazing, Thor Odinson, you know? Someone should write a book about you. You were reading my book, right?  _ The Dead Man’s Paradise _ .”

“How do you know that?” Thor frowned.

“I saw it in your pocket when I came in. I hope you’re enjoying it.”

“I finished it when you were writing. I loved it. Honestly.”

Loki smiled and brought more soup to his lips. They talked more and when Loki tried to pay, Thor told him the dinner was on the house for all his little lies.

“Can I take you home?” he asked when Loki put on his coat. “Even though I don’t have much experience with driving in Norway.”

“Well, you didn’t kill us the last time so I guess I would welcome a ride. It’s too dark to walk home.” He smiled and the blond closed the pub quickly so they could head out.

They didn’t talk on their way to the Round House, there was something comforting about them just listening to the Queen on the radio.

Thor noticed Loki’s hesitation and he waited patiently for him to figure out whatever was on his mind. 

“Thank you for the ride,” Loki reached for the door, but Thor stopped him. He leaned to him and put his hand on Loki’s cheek. He searched for permission Loki’s eyes, or perhaps for something that would tell him to stop, but he couldn’t find anything. He risked it. He brought his lips to Loki’s and kissed him as gently as he could.

Loki pulled away and he touched his lips. “Thank you.” . He slid out of the car before Thor managed to say something, and disappeared into the little house. Thor watched the closed door for a few seconds, then he sighed and started the car again.  _ What was he thinking? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for leaving comments and kudos. They are helping me stay motivated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's memories haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Memories of abusive relationship and dubious consent.   
Stay safe! ♥
> 
> Thank you for reading and leaving comments and kudos! ♥
> 
> I am going to spend to most of tomorrow on the move so I am publishing a new chapter today. 
> 
> Thanks to @tesseract_daddy for being my beta ♥

**Playlist for the chapter on Spotify:**

** <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4ULQgl8AD2O8UQKqpXPBlf> **

**Part 4: The Memories That Hunt Me**

Fandral was older than Loki. He met the writer right after he landed a deal for his first book. The dark-haired Brit felt like he was on top of the world. He was closer to fulfilling his dream than ever before and he found a boyfriend. A gorgeous, tall blonde boyfriend. He had a great sense of humour and Loki’s friends honestly seemed to like him.

“Come to bed, baby.” He kissed the back of Loki’s neck teasingly. The younger man chuckled. He didn’t take his eyes from the screen of his laptop, but he tilted his head to the side to receive more neck kisses. He was sitting shirtless in front of his wobbly desk, working on his second novel that would later be called  _ The Dead Man’s Paradise. _

“I need to finish this chapter to keep my deadline,” responded Loki, typing more words into the document.

“But I want you,” Fandral said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Loki laughed when he bit his neck lightly. 

“I really have to finish this. Only ten percent of writers keep their deadlines, did you know that? I would like to stay in that small percentage.” 

Fandral rolled his eyes, sliding his hands down Loki’s naked sides. Loki had his hair short at that time. Fandral asked him to cut it, because he didn’t like how girly long hair made him look. Loki thought that no one knew what looks better on him than his own boyfriend and he cut the black locks in front of his small bathroom mirror the same day. He kept it short for the rest of their relationship and he grew it as a form of protest when he broke up with him.

The older man slid his hands under the waistband of Loki’s sweatpants. Loki nearly jumped in his seat. 

“Fandral,” he addressed his partner sternly. “I am working. Please, stop.”

“Come on, baby, I know you want this as much as I do.” Fandral got on his knees behind him and kissed his spine. It was unusual position for the man as he never liked to kneel in front of Loki to please him, though he didn’t mind it if their roles were reversed. In fact, he would push Loki on his knees far too often. If Loki told the older man he wasn’t in the mood to be fucked, Fandral would insist on being pleasured otherwise, reminding Loki of his “ _ obligations _ ”.

“No. I don’t. I really don’t. Please, Fandral. Stop.” Loki gritted his teeth. He didn’t dare to take his gaze off his laptop. The kneeling man moved his wrist up and down in order to jerk Loki to hardness even when he repeatedly asked him to stop.

“Just let me take you. Over the table. You can go back to your silly scribbles afterwards,” he whispered to him. Loki only hesitated for a moment. This wasn’t the first time he found himself in such a situation and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. “If you didn’t want me to want you so much, you wouldn’t have been sitting here shirtless.”

“Fine.” Loki quickly saved his progress and closed his laptop before he stood up.

He didn’t look at Fandral. He didn’t even say anything else. He just stood there and waited for the man to take what he wanted. He felt his sweatpants being pulled down and he yielded under a hand that grabbed the back of his neck, leading him forward to bend over his desk. He heard his chair being pulled back so the man had better access to him and he soon felt something slick against him. It was just a second before two fingers breached him without warning.

Fandral didn’t work him open in a way he should and when he slid inside him, the man was still too tight and it caused him pain. He grabbed the back of his desk and he bit the inside of his cheek to suppress any sounds of pain that were threatening to escape his lips. He knew that Fandral always mistook them for moans of pleasure and he became even more ferocious in his movement. Or maybe he knew that Loki was hurting and it was what made him so aroused. Loki didn’t want to consider the latter option.

When Fandral finished, he went to bed. Loki opted for a shower and fresh pair of pyjama bottoms. He put a top on this time. He never wrote shirtless again. Even when it was boiling. Even when he broke up with Fandral months later. 

* * *

Loki woke up in the middle of the night. He was shaking.

“It was just a dream,” he reminded himself. “Only a memory. He is not here. You are not in London. You are safe.”

The windows fought against the harsh attack of the wind from the outside, wailing loudly. The sound terrified Loki. He was never one to be afraid of being alone in a house, but something about the storm raging outside and the heaviness of his memory made it too hard for him to feel safe in there.

He laid back staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t stop himself from wandering to Thor in his mind. The memory of his lips was still fresh on Loki’s skin.  _ He wouldn’t mind having the large man next to him now. _

A nagging part of him kept repeating: he tried to have a relationship and it didn’t work. Fandral seemed nice at first, too. How could he trust Thor? He probably only offered to take him home because he hoped to be invited inside. It would explain the kiss. Loki was an exciting new thing in the little town and he probably wanted to have some fun with him before he returned to his London apartment.

Loki needed to concentrate on his work and his novel. It was going wonderfully so far and he had to keep it that way. He knew that quality is more important than quantity, but having more writing done meant he was most likely going to earn more and contrary to popular belief, writers didn’t live on nice thoughts and air.

He was laying in his bed, thinking about everything till five in the morning when he got up. The snow storm outside was relentless and his fear of getting snowed in increased. It looked quite possible now. It was already a struggle to open the door, but the weather was too harsh for him to go and clear it. Plus, he didn’t have anything to shovel his way out except for a spoon.

He went through his morning routine though he barely slept. He couldn’t help but think about Fandral some more. It was inevitable due to the terrible dream. He did write a little, but he had to close his laptop when his mind didn’t shut up.

The pub was exactly what he needed, but there was no way he could walk there in the snowstorm and seeing Thor wouldn’t help him at all. He went back to bed and put on the TV. He was thankful for working Netflix. He decided to rewatch  _ Bohemian Rhapsody _ , though he had seen the movie three times already since it came out over a year ago. He felt like he could never get enough of it. The combination of great music and interesting story was what he needed to forget. At least for two hours.

“Yeah, right,” Loki scoffed when Freddie said that you knew you were rotten when there were fruit flies around you.

It got him thinking if he used to be rotten. Fandral was just the tip of an iceberg. He was never good at picking partners and it was one of the reasons why he stayed away from the dating scene.

He knew that not all men were the same, he just didn’t think he was good at attracting the right ones and so he didn’t risk it. Just to be sure.

Not to mention his carrier. His pleasingly developing carrier. No. No Norse God would be worth giving that up. No matter how nice he seemed to be and he didn’t do short romances. If he warmed up to someone, he couldn’t let them go easily.

* * *

It snowed the whole day, too. The snow didn’t stop up until dawn, and when Loki tried to open the door outside, he knew he was damned. Well, great. He knew there was no reason to dwell on it. He was prepared for this. He tried to do some more writing and then went to bed. He prayed he wouldn’t dream about his past lover again.

At first it sounded like someone scratching the pavement. Loki tried to ignore it, but it was impossible. He looked out of the window of the top floor, but he didn’t see anything but whiteness. The noises made a shiver run down his spine. He curled up under the thick duvets and hoped that it would just go away. He was in no mood for serial killers today.

It took an hour before it stopped and for a few moments, everything was silent. Loki couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his own breathing. 

Someone knocked on the door.

“Serial killer wouldn’t knock,” Loki mumbled to himself as he got out of bed and wrapped himself in warm dressing gown. “Fandral doesn’t know you’re here,” he added just to appease himself before he reached for the door.

Thor stood there in thick jacket that made him appear even bigger than he was. He held a shovel and he stood in freshly made path between two mountains of snow on each side.

“Are you alright?” the blonde asked instead of a greeting.

“Um…yes? Why?”

“Because the snow was reaching up to my waist and the door opens outside?” Loki blushed. He didn’t want to be a damsel in distress and he sure didn’t want Thor to feel like a knight in shining armour.

“Snow melts. Eventually.” Loki shrugged. He tried to look nonchalant, but deep inside he was grateful. “Did you really come here just to dig me out?” Thor laughed at his choice of words.

“Yes. I got worried when you didn’t come and...I wanted to talk about what happened last night.”

Loki examined his face, before he nodded and stepped away from the door: “Come in,” he invited the other man who just smiled and entered the cottage.


	5. I Lost My Eye in Nazi Germany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They need to talk.  
And Odin wants to talk to. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the possitive response! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and thanks to all those who take their time to comment. It's the sweetest thing waking up to your comments. Bless you! ♥
> 
> And of course - thanks to my Beta who is making this story readable for you! ♥

**Playlist for this chapter:**

** <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5iOD7pLsOJb6LLjK7OmEk4> **

**Part 5: I Lost My Eye In Nazi Germany**

“It looks even tinier on the inside,” Thor stated as he took off his shoes.

“I suppose,” mumbled Loki. “Tea. I’ll make some tea. Sit down…wherever you want. Not that there is much to choose from.”

Thor walked over to a small red sofa. He looked around but his gaze inescapably ended back on the writer who was making tea for them. Loki came back with two cups filled with Earl Grey tea.

“Thank you,” Thor took the cup and their fingers brushed against each other gently. 

“You wanted to talk,” Loki reminded him quietly. “So talk,” he prompted, before he sat down next to Thor.

The sofa was too small for them to sit properly apart and Thor took up most of it. He had a tendency to keep his knees wide when he sat. Loki used to do the same thing. Fandral told him, he sat like whore. So he stopped. He couldn’t help but stare at Thor’s knee as it was less than half an inch from his own. One wrong - or right - movement and they would touch.

“I freaked you out,” Thor said.

“You flatter yourself.” 

Thor didn’t laugh at his joke. “I am sorry,” he said as if he didn’t hear Loki’s words.

“Because you kissed me or because you came here to talk about it?” Loki lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side just ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of Thor. The man stared into his tea as if it offered answers. 

Loki sighed when he didn’t say anything. “It’s ok.” 

Thor looked up at him curiously. 

Loki continued: “I am not mad you kissed me. I don’t come to your pub only to write. I like you, but not like this. I don’t like anyone like this. I am not able to.”

“It was just a kiss,” Thor interrupted him quietly. He sounded like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Is that why you’re here? For _ just _a kiss?” 

Thor looked down, staring at his toes. He didn’t say anything, but his tormented expression spoke for him.

“Oh Thor.” Loki stood up. The room didn’t offer much space for pacing, but he did it anyways. He needed to pace. “I wouldn’t have guessed you for a romantic,” he admitted.

“I should leave.” Thor stood up. Loki turned his head to him. “This was a mistake.”

“Perhaps,” Loki mumbled. “But you don’t have to leave. Stay here. It’s too late to drive home. And you don’t have that Norse driving experience.” Loki teased.

“I am not sure that’s a good idea.”

Loki shrugged. “You know your way out. The bedroom is upstairs if you change your mind.” He curled his arms around himself and he headed up the stairs. _ Why was he doing this? Why did he offer? This was a stupid, stupid idea. _

He got into bed, pulling both thick duvets over himself and he listened. He was barely breathing just to make sure he didn’t miss it. His back was turned to the staircase as he stared into darkness. He let out a sigh when he heard Thor stomp on the first step. There was sixteen of them. Loki counted them the first day he arrived. He thought that no one in history had ever taken so long to walk up sixteen steps.

Loki was strangely calm about inviting the man into his bed. He thought he could never do that after Fandral, but there he was. In truth, he didn’t think Thor capable of doing anything like his ex lover and this was just a practical setting. Thor could never sleep on that tiny sofa. Or so Loki told himself.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move when the mattress sunk a little under Thor’s weight.

“I hate storms,” Thor admitted into the silence as the wind howled outside.

“Me too,” whispered Loki.

It was all they said to each other that night and when they woke up in the morning, they were facing each other, Loki’s head in Thor’s chest and Thor’s arms curled around Loki’s body. He didn’t mind.

He got up before Thor. He was feeling a little anxious. He wanted to get on with his morning the way he was used to, but how could it be the same when there was a man in his bed? He bit his lip and went on to make some tea.

“I need to get to the pub,” Thor stated tiredly instead of a good morning, when he joined Loki on the first floor some minutes later.

“Ok,” Loki mumbled and kept whisking eggs in a bowl.

“You can come with me – to write. I like it when you write there.”

“I like it when I write there, too.”

Thor smiled.

“But I also like to do yoga in the morning,” Loki said. “I guess it’s ok if I do it in the evening for once. If it makes you happy.” Loki bit his lip and immediately regretted adding those words. No. No. No. No. He didn’t want to change his routines for someone. Not again. No, that was not an option.

“It’s alright, Loki. Stay here,” Thor said and Loki felt relieved. “Will you come to the pub later?”

“I guess I could come for lunch.”

“Great!” Thor exclaimed and grabbed his jacket.

“I am making breakfast,” Loki murmured quietly. He sounded vulnerable and he hated himself for it. 

“It’s fine if I come late.” The blonde let go of his jacket again and Loki nodded. They ate in silence and Thor left shortly after. He leaned in to kiss Loki’s cheek at the door but backed out at the last moment.

“God, I am so awkward.” Loki heard Thor say to himself when the door closed.

* * *

Baldur was the first to make jokes when he arrived in the same clothes he wore yesterday. He didn’t even brush his teeth yet. He ate a few mints he had in his car, but he really just wanted to go back to bed. His bed, Loki’s bed, someone’s bed. Just bed.

He switched places with Baldur who was usually pending between kitchen and the pub.

“You look like shit,” Odin commented on his state the second his son stepped inside.

“Thanks, Dad,” he snorted.

“Go upstairs and have a shower at least for Christ’s sake. I think there’s still some of your clothes in the closet.” Thor obeyed without a word.

When his family moved from Norway, they bought the whole building, not just the pub. The apartment on the second floor wasn’t large and it was one of the reasons Thor moved away not too long ago. It was his first proper attempt of being a responsible adult. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from life. So far, this was enough for him. It was Baldur who was destined to take over the pub when their parents retired and Thor knew that he would always have a job there. It was comforting. He never thought he could want for more until the writer came to town and expanded his world.

He visited Loki to rescue him, that much was true, but he also wanted to make sure that Loki would come to the pub again, that he would sit at that little table, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. Thor wanted nothing more than to keep things the way they were. He loved kissing Loki, yes...but he also just wanted him around in a way he never experienced before.

* * *

When Loki came in, Baldur greeted him a little too eagerly and rushed Loki to the table reserved for the writer.

“You look better than Thor,” he said, chuckling when Loki sat down.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki lifted his eyebrows, but Baldur just kept snickering. He shook his head slightly. “Ok. Um. Do you have a lunch menu or something?”

“Yes. We do,” Baldur handed him a double sided paper titled _ Lunch. _

“I think I will have the potato and leek soup and grilled tofu sandwich and some water, please.” Loki smiled at him and returned the menu.

A familiar, fat figure stepped outside the kitchen and yelled: “We are out of leek and potato soup.” He announced majestically as if he was presenting a new royal decree.

“Do you even serve it? This is what happened the last time I asked for it.” 

Odin noticed Loki and went over to him, grinning. He dried his hand with his apron as he approached Loki.

“It’s very popular, my own recipe,” he told the writer. “The secret is adding leek.”

“Hence the name.” Loki smiled. He couldn’t tell if Odin’s foolish nature was just an act.

“Yes, yes.” He pulled the chair across from Loki and he sat down. Baldur rolled his eyes and went away as if he knew what was going to come next, except that he did and he didn’t dislike his brother enough not to alert him. “I lost my eye in Nazi Germany.” Odin pointed to the eyepatch even though Loki didn’t ask.

He narrowed his eyes. “You fought in the second world war? You don’t look old enough.”

“That’s because he was born in the 50s!” Thor shouted as he walked out of the kitchen “Jesus, Dad! Mum told you to stop doing that. It freaks out the customers.”

Odin stood up, waving his hand in gesture that clearly said he didn’t care and walked back to the kitchen.

“I am sorry. He always makes up stories about how he lost his eye,” Thor sighed out.

“And how did he lost it?”

“No one knows. Not even my mother, even though I think she does and she just won’t tell us.” 

Loki laughed and Thor looked at him as if his laughter was one of the sweetest sounds in the world. “Your family is hilarious.”

“Yes,” Thor murmured softly. “Did Baldur take your order?”

“He did, but I was told that the soup is not on the menu anymore.”

“No, but we have other vegetable soups if you want.”

“Sure.”

“You know, I wanted to ask you something,” Thor blurted out as if he just thought of it. “Would you like to go out? With me?”

“Thor,” Loki sighed. “I really don’t do these things. Dating and stuff.” He scratched the back of his wrist anxiously, looking at the table.

“It doesn’t have to be a date. Just two friends meeting somewhere. Or not even that, two people who happen to be at the same place at the same time.”

“What place would it be?” Loki didn’t look up, but one corner of his lips lifted again.

“The cinema?” 

Loki bit his lips, hesitating for a second. Thor could almost see his inner battle played out in the green of his eyes. He didn’t move and he didn’t say anything until Loki let out a sigh, his shoulders releasing their tension. 

“Sure. The cinema is fine,” he said.


	6. She's the Boss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga! There's Frigga. Do I need to say more?
> 
> I love Frigga...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone listening to the playlists? Just so I know if I should keep making them.

Playlist for the chapter:

<https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1Ln5A93lSqtJyRwUUFWgvq>

**Part 6: She Is the Boss**

“What a stupid idea.” Loki groaned as he pulled on his tight black jeans. He almost reached for his favourite shirt. Dark green silky shirt with bishop sleeves and tie collar. He bought it in women’s section and he couldn’t get enough of how nice it felt on him, but if he put it on, it would feel too much like a date. And it was not a date.

He grabbed a dark blue sweater instead and tied his hair in a bun. Great. Casual. Casual is good. Casual doesn’t give out any suggestions.

They were supposed to meet outside the cinema, even though Thor offered to pick him up. That would feel like a date, too. No dates.

Thor came dressed in similar style. His blue jeans were a little looser than Loki’s, but still tight enough to look good on him and his red sweater was peeking from under his coat. He was grinning again. It always made his Viking face shine like a sun. 

“What are we seeing?” Loki asked as they walked inside the cinema.

“There is some new superhero movie or we could see a rom-com.”

“I don’t like rom-coms.”

“A superhero movie it is then.”

* * *

They bought their tickets separately because this was not a date. They didn’t share a popcorn because this was not a date. They ignored it when their thighs touched or their elbows bumped into each other during the movie because this  **was not** a date. 

Loki noticed that Thor’s face lit up during every fight scene. He didn’t seem to be disturbed by the heroes and villains breaking half of the city or worried about the civilians. Loki, on the other hand, found the main villain to be the most enthralling. He had a solid backstory that made one wonder if he was a bad guy in the first place or if he was simply misunderstood.

They chatted about the film as they walked outside.

“How can you root for the villain?” Thor shook his head in disbelief. “He was...bad.”

“He had good intentions. How do you know that he wouldn’t be a better leader than the current government of the United States?” Loki enquired, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. 

“How do you know he would?”

“Trump is president.” Loki shrugged.

“Fair enough.” Thor nodded. “Let’s grab something to eat.”

“Ok, are there any restaurants around here?” Loki looked up at his companion.

“No,” Thor admitted slowly. “Just our pub. We’re closing in an hour; we could go there.” 

* * *

The pub was nearly empty and Loki spotted Thor’s mother for the first time. She was sitting with Odin at one of the tables, eating soup and chatting about something. She looked younger than her husband and there was something about her presence that made Loki understand she was the boss around here. Thor once mentioned that she took care of all the important stuff like accounting and supplies and he thought it .

“Hey there, you two. How was the movie?” She waved at them with a wide smile as if Loki was just an old friend that had always belonged there. As if he was part of the table where he always sat.

“It was alright,” Thor replied walking over. Loki followed. Being there with Thor’s family who treated him as if he was one of them, it felt a little like a date.

“We disagree on the role of the villain though,” Loki admitted, smiling as Frigga stood up to shake his hand and introduced herself.

“Thor always roots for the hero. He wanted to be a superhero himself as a kid.” She winked at her son who rolled his eyes. Loki didn’t miss the embarrassed blush that tinted his cheeks.

“What would be your superpower?” Loki asked Thor.

“Well, I would have a hammer - magical hammer and I would be able to fly. And I would have a cape. I would be super strong, too.”

“Of course you would,” Loki laughed, “but capes are awfully unpractical. Though they do look great; I can see that.”

“Do we have some dinner left or did Baldur eat everything?” Thor changed the subject. His brother scoffed in the background, taking care of the last customers that were just about to pay.

“Yeah, there is some leftover risotto,” Odin said, gesturing to the kitchen.

“Great. Would you like that?” Thor asked.

Loki smiled: “Sure, sounds great.”

“Sit down I will bring it then.” Thor touched his shoulder lightly before he disappeared into the kitchen.

Loki shrugged off his coat and sat down next to Frigga. Even with her strong nature, she was less intimidating than Odin.

She turned his head to him. “Are you working on your new novel here?” She had that kind of expression that made you feel like she already knew everything about you. It both terrified and excited Loki.

“Yes, I am.” He nodded. “I would like to finish it as well.”

“And it’s going well?”

“It is going better than I could have ever hope for.” She granted him a smile and Loki couldn’t help himself but feel like he just passed some kind of test.

“Glad to hear that. We are looking forward to it.” This affirmed his suspicion that she already knew all about him. She knew his work.

Thor came back with two steaming plates of sticky rice.

“There are chestnuts in it and rosemary. I got the recipe from France, lost my eye in there,” Odin announced, tapping his eyepatch.

Loki diverted his gaze to Thor who just shook his head without lifting eyes from his meal. The writer tried his best to suppress amused smile. He wasn’t successful.

Baldur joined them when he locked the pub, turning the sign on the door to  _ Closed _ . The two brothers were constantly teasing each other and Loki found it strangely nice. He was an only child and though he never really craved a sibling, he could appreciate the odd chaotic harmony between the two.

“Why would you come here?” Baldur asked all of sudden. “You could have gone anywhere. Why here? There is nothing in here.”

“Well, not everywhere.” Loki smiled. “Authors don’t earn as much as many people think, but I like Scotland. I needed to get away from London. This is a complete opposite. I like it. It’s calm, though I can see how bored you might be.”

“I thought that writers just pack their laptops and go wherever they want,” the older of brothers admitted. Thor kicked him under the table as if he didn’t think the same thing when Loki first arrived.

“I hate to break it to you, but this is just a romantic idea that is sadly very untrue. Most writers I know write in their living room.”

“So you haven’t travelled around the world?”

“Nope.” Loki shook his head. “I am afraid I have not.”

“Your job is much more boring than I thought.”

“Baldur!” Frigga reached over to slap the back of her son’s head, but Loki only laughed, not showing any signs of being offended.

They had a lot of questions for him and he tried to answer all of them with kindness and honesty.

“Don’t asked that,” Thor interrupted his brother when he wanted to know the plot of Loki’s book. “It’s rude.”

“It’s alright,” Loki assured him. “I just prefer not to tell. These things tend to change. Nothing is ever guaranteed when it comes to art.”

The bell from the only church in town rang through their conversation, marking midnight.

Loki looked out of the window. “I should get going. It’s late.”

“I’ll drive you,” Thor offered automatically.

“There’s wine in it,” Odin revealed, earning angry gaze from his son. “You can’t drive.” Loki was quite sure that he did it on purpose, but he didn’t show any signs of suspecting him.

Loki grabbed his coat. “It’s alright, I’ll walk. Thank you for dinner.” 

“Nonsense.” Frigga shook her head. “Stay over. We have an empty room upstairs.”

“Loki can stay over my place,” Thor said quickly, clearly not keen of the idea of leaving Loki with his family.

Loki wasn’t comfortable with this situation. Everything about it was making him anxious. Thor was nice and so was his family, but he didn’t trust them enough to stay over. It was different when Thor spent the night at his place. He was in charge and he wasn’t ready to let someone else be in charge. He had to clench his fists to remain still.

Thor and Loki left the family and the Loki used the first option to let the other man know that he didn’t plan spending the night with him.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to. Well, I’ll just walk you home.”

“I can walk home on my own. I am not helpless,” Loki defended his pride quickly. He knew that it was important to establish some kind of power. Thor needed to know, that Loki could take care of himself and there was no use in both of them walking in the middle of the night.

“I didn’t say you are,” Thor assured him quickly. “And I don’t think you are, it’s just that I know this place better than you. That’s why I thought I should go with you. Just to make sure you don’t get lost,” he explained.

“Alright. Well, thank you very much, but I don’t want you walking back home on your own. I’ll be quite fine.”

“Can you text me when you get home? So, I know you’re safe.” 

Loki smiled. “Yeah. Sure.”  _ Was this man even real? _

“Ok. Well, thank you for today. It was fun,” Thor said.

“It was,” Loki agreed. He surprised himself with the fact that he wasn’t lying. “It really was.” He chuckled. “I like your mother. She seems to be the sane one in your family.”

“What do you mean she is the sane one. What about me?” Thor exclaimed, offended, but Loki could sense the joke in it.

“Both you and your father have a problem with lying.”

Thor blushed dark red. “I couldn’t have just told you that I am reading your book, how would that sound?”

“Ok, I’ll give you that. But that story about Norway? Come on, Thor!”

“Fine, fine. Maybe I have a tendency of trying to make an impression.” 

“You were trying to impress me?” Loki’s surprised tone forced a shadow of hurt to cross over Thor’s face.

“Yeah, well, obviously not very well.” He scratched behind his ear.

“I should get going.” Loki took a step back, away from Thor. “Thank you for this. All of this, including your attempts of impressing me with your Viking heritage and knowledge of Shakespeare.” He felt awkward. He had to go before they got emotional. He turned around and paced down the street. He craved the warmth of his bed.


	7. No Update this Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry

So, I don't really have a good apology other than _life._

The nnew chapter is written, the whole story is, but I just don't feel like updating this week, I will probably do a double update next week. I've been recently dealing with some personal issues, relapses in thing I thought I would never relapse again and I...I am not really sure what I am doing. I just wanted you to know I didn't forget and there will be updte, just not today as usual.   
  
I will delete this once I update, this was an only way for me to let those who subscribed (thank you btw) know.   
  
Yeah, so I am really sorry, but at the moment I am a mess and I need to take care of that. 


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